


Carlos

by fragilespark



Category: Nuestras Vidas Privadas | Our Private Life - Rozo
Genre: M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-05
Updated: 2011-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilespark/pseuds/fragilespark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fic/character exploration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carlos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/gifts).



I got used to the sound of voices coming from the television, through the walls. At first I thought there were strange people in the house, having an argument. I thought I was dreaming. I couldn't hear the words but the muffled sounds became as familiar to me as the sizzle of the grill and the din at work. Barked orders, dropped plates, loud music. A nest for stories. Told in boasts, in whispers. Played out every day.

The first time I let Edgar take me, the pain, the pleasure, was the first real thing I'd felt in years. Gone were the useless questions in that dull box of a living room. Watching my family's life play out like a culebrón. They could have been behind the glass of a TV screen for how far apart we were. With Edgar, nothing is useless. He tells me what to do. He tells me what he wants. He's in me and there's no glass between us, just our skin and sweat and grunts. The money at the end is an afterthought. For me, anyway.

The air is so full of oil and smoke that when I forget to wash my hair my nails turn black from running my fingers through it. Edgar is extra rough with me when he notices. Says it's punishment for dirtying the food. It's his fault I'm getting lazier. I watch the grime seep from my skin into the bathwater and wish I'd taken a shower. It's so easy to stay here. I wish it was my own bath then I could. If I save enough I can get away. But not to the next town. I don't know if I'll find a boss I want to fuck.

I can see Sergio's life take the railway tracks laid out before him. I try to find mine but I don't think anyone laid them. I like to think if they do exist they're broken and covered in sand, unfinished. I give them a kick and walk away.


End file.
